Aftertaste
by singsongsung
Summary: Julian/Peyton/Lucas. One girl, two boys, and a whole lot of history. The reality of it all is that she really did love them both.
1. Crazy

Aftertaste

_And I really didn't need this. Don't want to be this. Don't want to see this._

_I'm falling in, I'm going there again, and it's not my fault. _

**A/N: **Don't hate me. The thing is…I can't stop writing. And the other thing is, though I'm sure a lot of you don't…I really like Julian. While I thoroughly support L/P…I really, really like Julian. He's pretty irresistible – physically _and_ from a fan fiction perspective. And I want more of him, more of his relationship with Peyton. I don't know exactly how things are going to go on the show, but they're probably not going to go my way. This…is my way. Like I said, don't hate me. I'm writing pretty consistently; I have updates for _all_ of my stories in the works. This isn't going to be very long, about ten chapters, so don't worry; it's not another seemingly unending story. Lyrics: "Aftertaste" – Ben Lee. Enjoy, and please review.

**Crazy. **

She's sitting in her office when he arrives, on the phone with the manager of a band, politely arguing with him about his band: their needs and wants, the manager's needs and wants, her needs and wants and everything in between. She wants to make this good, for her brother.

When he appears in her doorway, all of a sudden her businesslike persona is gone and she is left a stuttering mess, blurting out what she thinks and hanging up with a promise to call back.

He still gives her butterflies, and she hates it.

"What're you doing here?" she asks, the same question she directed to him weeks before.

He shrugs. "Wanted to see you."

She presses her lips together, trying not to betray any emotion, and gestures to the red chair across from her. At least in this swiveling chair, this position of authority, she's got a little power over him. "You can sit, I guess."

He smirks, because she's phrased it like she's doing him a big favour. "_Thank_ you," he says sarcastically, but all she can think about is all the times she's seen that smirk before, the playful light in his eyes that is purposefully guarded today.

Playing with her pen, uncapping and recapping it, she says, "Luke's really beating himself up over that scene you're forcing him to write."

Her hostility wasn't quite as subtle as she'd hoped, and she can tell that he feels it full force, but he just shrugs again. "I told him I could get somebody else to do it."

For some inexplicable reason, tears prick at her eyes. "It's the moment his _father_ pulled the trigger, _murdering_ his _uncle_. You can't expect him to trust that in the hands of someone else. You can't expect him to go back to that day. You're not being fair to him."

When he gives her a knowing look, she's taken aback because he really does _know_. He knows her. He knew her for nearly two years. He knows her still.

"I'm not being fair to him…" he begins quietly, "or _you're_ not being fair to him?"

"Stop," she says instantly, looking away from him, staring at the records on her wall.

"Peyton…" She hates the way he says her name, with such familiarity. "I just don't understand why you haven't told him yet. I haven't because I know you wouldn't want that. I'm trying to respect your engagement, here. It's a business deal; I'm trying to be professional. But it's been three weeks. Why haven't _you_ told him?"

"Why haven't you _left_?" she snaps back illogically.

"Peyton." He says again. Her name is a statement and a question at the same time when he says it like that.

"It'll upset him," she argues.

"Him, or you?"

"I…both, okay? Both."

He shakes his head. "I don't understand you."

Shaking her head as well, she asks point-blank, "Are you back for me?"

His grin is cocky as he leans forward, and it infuriates her. "Babe…_I_ left _you_, remember?"

She frowns at the memory, the abrupt way he disappeared from her life, the third time in her life that she felt powerful heartbreak and a disconcerting sense of abandonment. "Yeah, I remember," she snaps angrily. "Out the door in two seconds flat, nothing but a goodbye, and all over a stupid _book_."

"_Stupid_ book?" he retorts, raising his eyebrows. "You clung to that book like it was Lucas himself…and look at you now. Isn't that love story what brought you back together?"

Again, she looks away from him. No, _Ravens_ didn't give her back the love of her life, but Lucas' second book did. In most senses, he's right. That love story, no matter which book it existed within in, was what brought them back to one another – even if it took a tearful runaway bride, a whirlwind trip to Vegas, and a failed book tour for them to realize this very fact.

Instead of saying all of that aloud, she turns back to her ex-boyfriend with steely green eyes and says, "It's so _nice_ that you've finally _lowered_ yourself to the level at which you can bring yourself to read it. And you like it _so_ much that now you want to make a movie," she scoffs.

"Honey," Julian says condescendingly. "If I'd read that book earlier, we would've been over a hell of a lot sooner."

Her frown grows so deep and pained that it surprises them both.

"What did you think, Peyton, seriously? That we'd be together forever?"

She wants to scream at him that no, she would never entertain that thought, not even for a minute, but the truth spills out of her mouth instead. "I guess sometimes maybe I did."

Fully prepared for some moronic comeback on his part, her eyes open wide when he admits, his voice contrite, "Yeah. I guess sometimes I did, too."

Even though she's just said the same thing, there is something entirely inappropriate about this moment. She and Julian have been over for nearly two years, and they haven't been alone in the same room since he unceremoniously walked out of her apartment. Two weeks later she returned home to find that all of things had disappeared. Her anger flares up again, just for a moment, and she takes the opportunity to blurt, "You hurt me."

She can see it in his eyes, the solemn knowledge of that very fact. "I'm sorry," he says. "But you hurt me, too, Peyton, clinging to the words Lucas wrote for you. The idea that he was, and would always be in love with you."

As she looks at him she wants so badly to be mad, but all she can think about is that she really did love him. He swept her off her feet when she was down, really down, saved her from Lucas-induced misery…taught her that it was possible to still be happy. More than happy. In love.

She was so infatuated with him, with his semi-nomadic, impulsive lifestyle, those cute grins he gave her. She remembers the vulnerability in his eyes the first time he said he loved her, how content she'd felt in the rightness of that moment, straddling him and teasing him. She remembers every concert they went to together; he always had backstage passes and he'd always find a dark, private corner where he could pull her away to kiss her and tease her with the ideas of everything he'd to do her when they got back home. She remembers Sunday afternoons in the summer with the fan on at full speed, never leaving bed. She remembers arriving at parties with his arm around her waist, leaning up to whisper in his ear about the snotty wives of the seemingly-dignified movie producers, feeling his chest shake with laughter. She remembers the reading glasses he wore in bed when he was looking over a script at night, she remembers pulling them off and tossing them aside, his hands and lips everywhere, falling asleep and waking up with her body tangled up with his.

Lucas had followed her everywhere in the form of his bestselling novel. Every time she saw it there was the slightest tug on her heartstrings, and she coughed up the fifteen dollars and stuck another copy in her bag. Then she'd get home or to the restaurant or his office, and Julian would smile at her and all of sudden her heart wouldn't hurt anymore.

"You should tell him." Interrupting her train of thought, Julian's voice seems particularly loud. "It's not even going to matter that he knows. It didn't mean anything."

Her heart drops to her stomach as she gasps out, "_What_?"

"Be honest," he chides her, in that gentle voice that he used to save only for her. "Lucas Scott was always a third party in our relationship. He always had a greater grip on your heart than I did. The book says it all. You've read it enough times to know that," he adds, the slightest bit of bitterness leaking into his voice. "What we had was good. It was fun. And when we broke up, I…I did read the book. And it was good, and I thought: this deserves to be on the big screen. So I sought the guy out. I had no idea that you'd be with him now…though I guess I really should have expected it, epic love story and all." He pauses as if he's scared to speak any more, but forges on. "I never really knew why I read it only after we broke up. But then I saw you again, that other night, and you looked so good…and I've missed you. I guess I needed to read _An Unkindness _to understand why you could love him but you couldn't love me."

"Julian," she breaths softly, incredulously, much like she did on the day he walked out of her life. She wasn't honestly a big fan of his name when they first met – it was stupid, but it was something that irritated her. Soon enough, though, she learned to appreciate it, and naturally adopted inflection that caused his name to leave her lips almost as a caress, an indicator of how she felt about him.

"That's all I had to say," he mutters, his voice possessing only the slightest bit of its regular confidence. "You should just tell him. End this awkwardness."

Peyton opens her mouth to speak but no words come out. She can't think of what to say to him right now.

"I'll see you around…Mrs. Scott," he adds the last part with an arched eyebrow that's meant to be teasing, but just seems like a sad, painfully forced attempt at lightheartedness. Basically, it sounds like exactly what it is.

He stands, turns, and makes it almost all the way to the door before she calls out, her voice tight, "Julian…wait!"

When he looks back at her his eyes are tired. "Yeah?"

She pushes back her chair and storms over to him, blonde curls and venom, like Lucas described her on first meeting in that novel of his that touched a million hearts. "Have you lost your _mind_?" she demands, placing both hands on her chest and shoving him so that his back makes momentary contact with the glass doors.

"Uh…no?"

"It didn't _mean anything_?" she asks, raising her voice as she takes two steps, closing the distance between them and staring straight into his eyes.

"Peyton, I –"

"Are you _crazy_? I loved you!" she cries. "Maybe I…I had trouble letting go of my past, but that's because I didn't want it to lose its value. And yeah…I really feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be right now with Lucas…but don't you _dare_ for a single _second_ think that I didn't love you! Because I did. I did, and when you left me it broke my heart." She shakes her head, letting her softly waved her fall into her face. "Didn't you love me?" she asks vulnerably. "Was everything a lie?"

He cups a hand under her chin, tilting her head up so that she has to meet his eyes. Pushing the hair out of her face, he just looks at her for a moment, and she's reminded that there is a gentler version of this man, one she knew so well. One without arrogance and confidence, one without devious schemes and a know-it-all manner. One capable of sincere affection. "Of course I loved you. It just hurt too much to think that you couldn't love me back the same way."

She studies his face, an unsettling feeling washing over her. She bites down momentarily on the corner of her lower lip before murmuring, "Julian, I…"

His eyes ask her a silent question, one she saw in them on a starry night in an impressively quiet restaurant in L.A., and she gives him the same answer she did then, and it feels just as right.

She can't initiate the kiss, and he understands that, he must, because seconds later his lips are pressing softly against hers. The kiss goes from soft to anything but in the space of about three seconds.

His arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, and hers twine around his neck naturally. It's hot and heavy and passionate, sad and raw and demanding, tongues battling as one of her hands cups the back of his neck. But this isn't lust and it isn't love…it is the goodbye they never got to have because they both hurt each other too badly. And it's a goodbye that they both need to settle into any sort of comfort with the man whose life they are both irreversibly involved in.

This is final, this is the end, and she thinks that she might whisper those words against his lips as they pull away from each other, rest her forehead against his one last time, and be free to go back home to her fiancé and flippantly describe this old relationship to him, assuring him that the past has no effect on their perfect present.

But of course, because this is Tree Hill, it turns out that there is no way in hell that her fiancée will ever believe those words, because he chooses that exact moment to seek her out at work. His words are what tear them apart, spoken with anger and betrayal and panic gleaming brightly in his tortured blue eyes.

"What the _fuck_ is _this_?"


	2. Jealousy

**A/N: **Thank you to those of you – all thirty of you, wow – who left reviews. I really appreciate it from those of you who are L/P fans and are giving this a chance; for those of you waiting for a **Crescendo** update, I promise to try and have it up within the week. Real life is brutal, that's my only excuse.

To those of you who like Julian, I'm happy that you're out there to read this because…yeah, I do, too. I have the hugest crush on him considering how much I expected to hate him, I've got to admit. There will be more Julian/Peyton next chapter.

And to those of you who felt the need to point out that "This story sucks!"…well, if you think the _writing_ sucks, then give me something I can work with and I'll be happy to take it and try to improve my work. If you think the _pairings_ suck, then _don't read it_. You don't see me reading Brucas, do you?

Thanks for reading whatever your opinion may be, and I always appreciate reviews. :)

**Jealousy.**

She turns and blinks, unable to believe that Lucas had seen this, because it really, truly is not what it looks like.

But he won't believe those words, because there is nothing but fury and confusion in his eyes.

"Luke," she says with that tenderness in her voice that is now reserved solely for him.

"What the hell?" he growls again, clenching his fists. He's displaying the kind of unstoppable anger that she normally associates with the younger Scott brother.

He takes a couple steps toward them, and Peyton finds herself stepping between the men. It's as though there is an invisible line between Julian and Lucas, and she couldn't stand seeing her fiancé all alone on his. Now, she straddles that line, protective of them both.

As she moves, she sees that Julian is wearing her lipstick, and she knows that Lucas sees it as well from the steeliness in his eyes.

"I…I don't understand," Lucas mutters.

"Please let me explain," Peyton breaths as calmly as she can, reaching toward him.

He moves away from her hands. "What _is_ this?" All of a sudden the volume of his voice escalates, he yells, "You're making out with my movie producer?"

She can feel Julian getting defensive behind her and she holds up a hand to keep him from speaking; he will only make things worse. "Luke," she whispers. This is unfamiliar territory for her. When it comes to Lucas Scott and betrayal, they have always committed the crime together. She feels most helpless because of the fact that there actually is no betrayal involved. She shrugs, her eyes pleading with her fiancé, and whispers, "It was just goodbye."

His eyes grow wide, and suddenly he looks young and hurt as she splutters out his question: "How long has this been going on?"

"Luke, no," she begins, taking in a sharp breath as she realizes what she accidentally alluded to, what he assumed.

"God, Peyton," he breaths out, his posture tight and slowly closing off. He runs a hand through his hair and rubs the back of his neck, she recognizes these gestures of frustration and discomfort, and she aches to hug him.

"Honey, listen to me," she tells him softly. "Julian and I –"

The disbelief in his eyes stops her short. He clearly can't believe or deal with the fact that she's so comfortable in referring to a relationship he was never aware of, and it's obviously tearing him up.

"It's my fault," Julian interjects out of nowhere, and Lucas' glare shows that he agrees with this statement. Peyton mouths Julian's name but no sound escapes her lips so he keeps going. "We…we dated. Peyton and I. In L.A., a couple years ago. When I showed up here, I asked her…not to tell you."

His intentions are uncharacteristically sweet and wholesome. But he doesn't know. Julian may have read the book and been part of the story, but he doesn't know what he's done. He doesn't know Lucas' mind like she does.

His well-intentioned lie is worse than the truth. It was Peyton's decision to keep this from Lucas, which is bad enough on its own, but at least it would stay between them. Now he thinks that she'd been covering for her ex, and he doesn't know what that means about her feelings for him – all it does is contribute to Lucas' anger, confusion, and sense of deception.

"Unbelievable," he mumbles.

Her regret is still there, but all of a sudden a contradicting emotion surges within her and she can _feel_ her eyes flashing. "You know what _I_ think is unbelievable?"

And then she's off, and both men know it – they practically wince in unison.

"I think it's _unbelievable_ that you kissed me back after I told you that I still loved you, and then you went and proposed to _another_ woman with _my_ ring!" She places her hand on her chest for impact, and it lands right over her heart.

"_Da_-yum," Julian comments with a whistle.

Lucas' eyes shoot daggers over Peyton's shoulders. "You can go," he barks.

She shakes her head furiously. "Do _not_ tell him what to do!"

He ignores her comment. "How could you not tell me about this? And why are you two _making out…now_?"

Julian clears his throat. "It was only one kiss. It was goodbye, like she said."

Despite the grateful look Peyton shoots him, she also really wants him to shut up.

"Didn't look like goodbye," Lucas grumbles childishly, and meets his fiancée's eyes, "What're you _doing_?"

"What were you _doing_?" she shoots back. "You said _I do_ to her!"

His eyes soften a bit. "Let's not do this now." She knows that he means: let's now showcase the flaws of our relationship to a guy you kissed mere moments ago.

"Then when?" she cries. "Don't get upset about my history; we haven't even begun to talk about _yours_!"

Lucas looks apologetic, but isn't willing to back down. "You know, you still haven't told me _why_ you two were kissing."

She shakes her head. He can't seriously doubt her, not after all they've been through. Not after she'd fought so hard for him, sacrificed so much for him. "Screw you," she hisses, and when Julian reaches toward her, her glare serves as a warning. She doesn't want to be near either of them right now.

-x-

She's fighting tears when she bursts into what used to be Clothes over Bro's, too distracted at first to realize that Brooke and Own are cuddling on the couch.

"Sorry," she blurts out, an awkward greeting. The air in there, once stifled by business gone bad, is light with love.

"No, sweetie, it's okay," Brooke rushes to assure her, clearly sensing that Peyton is about to lose it. Her brown eyes are sympathetic as she pats the space beside her on the couch.

Peyton hurries over to sink into her best friend's arms, her own personal equivalent of a mother's embrace.

Brooke strokes her hair, pulling her closer, and Owen knows that this is his cue to leave. He stands and drops a kiss on the brunette's forehead, slipping out the door after promising her a phone call.

Brooke is aware of what's going on, and her voice is warm with comfort as she wryly says, "And we thought love triangles died in high school."

She sniffles. "It's not a love triangle. I love Luke; I'm engaged."

Her friend's silence speaks volumes.

"_What_?" Peyton groans.

"P. Sawyer, the first thing you need to do is to stop lying to yourself."

"I needed to tell him, but I didn't know how," she murmurs into Brooke's neck.

Her best friend hugs her a little closer, and Peyton can sell her signature, initial-and-surname branded, perfume. Brooke doesn't say anything, but the message of her hug is clear and kind.

_You're going to be okay. _

-x-

Brooke lets her stay the night without question. Sam has Peyton's old room, but that's okay because Brooke is supposed to be baby-sitting Jamie but is instead running around trying to organize a new business for herself. Sam disappears early on, and Brooke rushes off for the answer the phone for the infinite time, so Peyton is left to fall asleep on the couch with Jamie in her arms and Disney characters chirping on the TV screen. As she drifts off, she hears fragments of Brooke's latest telephone conversation.

"Luke, I think you need to give her some time. You _both_ need some time. I _agree_. But she knows what it was like when you were with Lindsey and she's worried about bringing up her own past, only _because_ of how much she loves you – she is _not _cheating on you, Lucas, I know that…"

-x-

She wakes up the next morning to the sound of laughter, and forces open her eyelids to see Brooke setting plates of pancakes in front of Jamie and Sam. She leans forward, placing her elbows on the counter and grinning, unmasked adoration in her eyes as she teases both the kids she practically regards as her own. Peyton smiles reluctantly. Brooke has really settled into this whole mom thing.

"Breakfast, honey," Brooke calls out when she catches her moving. As Peyton groans, she says, "Gotta face the music sometime, P. Sawyer."

Peyton stands and meanders over to the counter, where Brooke hands her a plate and Jamie pipes up, "_Music_, get it, Aunt Peyton? 'Cause that's what you like."

He's never called her _aunt_ before and her heart swells as she ruffles the little boy's hair and Brooke winks at her. Jamie asks for more juice and Peyton's mind drifts again. Yes, she does need to face the music sometime, but _sometime_ should have been three weeks ago, and she knows it.

"Luke and I have been doing so well, and none of the past even _mattered_ anymore, it just seemed…trivial. But when he started accusing me of things, I thought about Lindsey and all the crap that happened…and it just makes me scared that that's always going to be between us," she admits shakily without even glancing at her food.

Brooke doesn't hug her or pat her hand or give her a speech about how nothing can come between them, not even Brooke Davis herself, because they're _Lucas and Peyton_. Instead, she braces her hand on the counter and tilts her head to the side. "Peyton…did you _kiss _Julian last night?"

Jamie looks up from his syrup-soaked pancakes. "I thought you only kiss Uncle Luke."

She shoots him a weak smile. "Yeah, bud, I…I do." Turning back to her best friend, she says, "It was _goodbye_," in the exact same tone that she spent the past year insisting that she didn't say _no_ she said _someday_. She's growing tired of justifying her actions, but knows that this time she really is in the wrong. She pushes her plate away and attempts to elaborate: "We just needed some closure."

Brooke frowns. "I respect that, Peyton, but it was a stupid time and place to say that goodbye…kiss that goodbye." Her eyes flick down tot eh plate and then back up to Peyton's face. "Not hungry?"

She shakes her head slightly. "I feel like I'm going to launch any second."

"Guilt." Sam's tone is dry as she offers her diagnosis.

Peyton gives her a scathing look and Brooke's bites back a smile. "_See_?" she brunette asks, a teasing note in her raspy voice. "_That_ is what I have to live with."

-x-

She spends the day with Brooke's little unconventional family: she talks music with Sam, gulps down chocolate ice cream with Jamie, and tries to help Brooke brainstorm new business ideas. When Owen stops by unexpectedly, she sees the way Brooke's eyes light up, and herds Jamie and Sam to the beach so that the couple can have some privacy. She watches as Sam chases Jamie across the same, a genuine laugh escaping her. Peyton knows that life well, lots of misery with bursts of sheer happiness. It seems that her life has taken a one hundred eighty degree turn: now it is sheer happiness, but she's hit a burst of misery. She's not sure which life she would wish on Sam, which is better, but it makes her happy to see the displaced teen smiling. She can't help it, Peyton figures as she sits down, burying her toes in the slightly cold sand. Jamie's laughter is completely infectious, and Peyton catches herself wondering if all Scott kids are that cute.

When evening comes her escape fades away. Haley shows up to pick up Jamie, and gives Peyton a series of meaningful looks which basically convey that Lucas is a mess, Haley is somewhat disappointed in Peyton, but she loves them both no matter what. After Jamie gives both his aunts and Sam hugs goodbye, they're gone, and Brooke orders Sam to the kitchen counter to do homework, as Haley'd suggested.

Then she sits Peyton down on the couch and gives her _the_ look and _the_ speech. "You've cried, you've moped, and you've brooded more than is probably healthy," Brooke reports matter-of-factly. "And honey, you know I love you, but you look like death. It's time to go home to your almost-husband. He loves you and you love him. Just talk things true." Her expression morphs into one of sudden, serious concern. "You…I mean, you don't still have feelings for Julian, do you?"

She asks the question disbelievingly, and that makes sense. Lucas is the love of her life, and it is ludicrous for her to have any remotely romantic feelings for anyone else. And yet, she can't quite bring herself to answer Brooke, and just stands up instead. "You're right. I should go…home." It is her home. It's where she belongs.

"Yeah…" Brooke says uncertainly. "You should. Listen, P. Sawyer…" She hesitates and sighs. "I know that love Lucas. I've spent this last year watching you cry for him. And these past few weeks you've practically been glowing with happiness. But…" She pauses again. "Listen, don't be mad, but Haley and I were talking, and…" She swallows hard. "We just want you to understand that it's okay if…you just loved Lucas…because you missed out on a chance."

Peyton shakes her head, squinting at her best friend in utter confusion. "You can't…"

"I'm not," Brooke cuts her off. "Whatever you think I'm saying…I'm not. I just want you to know that it's okay if things are falling apart, and I know that Lucas has hurt you in the past…but he _loves_ you so _much_, Peyton. And I really think you love him, too."

"I do."

"Yeah," Brooke agrees softly. "But you don't _have_ to."

Peyton's head aches. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Brooke can tell that she's messed with her friend's mind, and she feels bad, Peyton can see it in her eyes. "You're welcome."

-x-

There's no one at home. By no one, she means Lucas, because he is her only family.

She pulls on camouflage pyjama pants and a white tank top before crawling into bed. She leaves the overhead light on, and she can feel the light against her closed eyes. She doesn't sleep, but her mind slows down.

Somehow, hearing Brooke's gentle attempts to reassure that she doesn't _have_ to love Lucas…has reaffirmed the fact that she really, really does. God, she _does_.

He comes home nearly an hour after she arrives. She doesn't open her eyes when he enters the room, and he doesn't say anything. She feels so completely vulnerable all of a sudden, and she curls in on herself a bit.

She hears him changing, hears the opening of draws, the creak of the closet door. She exits the room and she hears running water. When he comes back in again, he turns off the overhead light and wordlessly climbs into bed with her.

It's nearly ten minutes before his hand finally moves toward her, landing lightly against her back. She takes a shuddering breath and his hand gently, cautiously moves to wrap around her waist.

She rolls over quickly to face him, her eyes guarded as she searches his face. He pulls his hand back. His eyes are full of a million things. She sees shame, which she appreciates. There is definitely a jealous shadow, which she understands. She doesn't resent the bit of anger that remains. Confusion is definitely still present, and she can respect that. And there it is: love…exactly what she was looking for.

"Where've you been?" she murmurs, and he gives her the answers she expected to hear. Talking to Haley, playing a game with Nathan, having a…_talk_ with Julian.

"Luke," she sighs at the last part.

"I know," he whispers. "I know and I'm sorry I got so mad, you didn't deserve that, not at all, but Peyt…" His voice becomes so small. "You kissed him."

They aren't touching, and she closes the distance between them only with her lips. Her tongue asks for access to his mouth and he grants it; only then does she rest the tips of her fingers against his cheek, moaning softly against his lips. When they break for air she says, "Not like that, I didn't."

He grins reluctantly, his hand skimming lightly down her bare arm, shoulder to wrist. "I'm glad you came home tonight."

She nods. She doesn't need to say anything.

"I just…I need to know."

"I know you do," she whispers back, and tears prick at her eyes for no reason at all. His eyes register alarm at the sight of them, and those blue orbs ask her what's wrong. "Nothing, it's nothing, I just…" She shrugs shakily, avoiding his eyes. "You're everything, you know?"

"I know," he says softly, his hand making his way around her waist again, and she knows that he really does.

"In the morning. I'll tell you it all in the morning. We'll talk _everything_ out…tomorrow."

"Okay," he says tenderly, looking worried about her. After a pause, he adds, "I love you."

She gets so choked up that she can't reply, and Lucas furrows his brow.

"Babe, what is it?"

She shakes her head and buries herself in his arms, breathing a sigh of relief. She just feels so…unsteady. This was what she really needed, just to be held closely. "I'm just kind of out of it right now," she mutters lamely as he rubs soothing circles of her back.

"Are you…worried about us?" He's trying to be supportive for her, but she hears the vulnerability that he can't keep from creeping into his voice.

She shakes her head again, forcefully this time. She tilts her head up, looks him in the eye, and tells him that she loves him, too.


	3. Memory

**A/N: **This one's pretty short, only about 2000 words. L/P fans, I'm sorry, tune in again next chapter if this isn't your thing. I just needed to get this out of my system, and this was the place to do it.

**Memory.**

_"Mm," Peyton murmurs appreciatively as she nips at Julian's lips. He smiles back at her, bringing his head back down towards hers for another, deeper kiss that only increases the tingling feeling coursing through her body. _

_Julian settles himself at her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and presses kisses against the skin of her shoulder, which is salty from the thin layer of sweat that coats her body. "That is, by far, my favourite way to wake up."_

_She giggles, blushing at her own girlish tendencies, before running her fingers through his hair fondly and sighing contentedly. "You feel so good," she whispers, turning her head to kiss him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth. _

_When he pulls away, in need of air, his hand runs lightly down her bare back, and he groans. "As much as I would__** love**__ round two…" She raises her eyebrows sceptically, sensing the 'but', "__**But**__," Julian sighs, "I have a meeting in like an hour."_

_Her sweetest, coyest smile makes it way to her lips as she shakes her head, snuggling closer. "Nuh-uh."_

_"Yeah," he whispers back, and when he nods his nose brushes hers. _

_"No," she replies, and before he can say another word she covers his mouth with hers. _

_She shifts so that she's lying on top of him, melding her body perfectly into his. She matches her hips to his, tucks her arms into his sides, and rests her toes atop his feet. He pulls back first, gasping out, "You're playing dirty."_

_She quirks an eyebrow and traces his jaw line with her index finger. "Is it working?" she asks as though it is a genuine question, all innocence and curiosity. _

_He shakes his head, throwing her a perfectly affectionate smile right before he gives her a whisper of a kiss. "I've really got to go."_

_The moment her bottom lip sticks out he kisses her pout away, but she knows that business has to come before pleasure and rolls off of him, letting her head sink into the downy pillows she insisted they buy. _

_As he showers, she rolled over, half-burying her face into the pillow and biting back a smile._

_She's happy. Really and truly __**happy**__. It's been almost two years since she's felt so totally and completely encompassed by a cloud of bliss, but Julian is really helping to heal her heart. _

_Reaching down to the floor, she sweeps up the shirt he slept in the previous night and tugs it over her head, snuggling into the soft, worn-in cotton and inhaling his spicy scent. As she settles back down amidst the pillows and blankets, she reaches over to her nightstand and tugs the drawer open. _

_This is the place she keeps the hand cream she uses right before bed, the vial of über-expensive perfume Brooke insisted on buying for her, and a couple copies of __**Cosmo**__. None of those things interest Julian, but it's also the place where they keep condoms and the handcuffs he bought her as a joke but that actually ended up getting used a couple times. But Julian has never really __**looked**__ into the drawer, because any time he reaches in, his mind is far from curious about its other contents. _

_He doesn't know that this is where she keeps the collector's edition of __**An Unkindness of Ravens**__. She shelled out forty dollars for the traditionally, beautifully bound copy of Lucas Scott's book. Considering the fact that she owned six other copies and the book on CD, it may have seemed like a crazy decision, but she couldn't help herself. _

_She still thinks about him, of course she does. It's not everyday anymore. Sometimes it's even three or four days before Lucas Scott pops up in her head. But at least once a week, he flashes through her mind. She opens the book to the very last page. __**…in love with Peyton Sawyer**__, it says, that final, perfect sentence. That final, perfect lie. _

_She had believed in it. She had thrown her whole heart to the boy who spoke those words. Trusted him with that part of her essential to life. And he had walked away. Left her to wake up alone in a hotel room with her head spinning and a pain in her chest that came and went with each beat of her heart. _

_Sometimes she wonders if he is happy, too. If he's found someone, like that girl at the book signing, who gives him that familiar feeling Peyton get now, of butterflies in her stomach and a sudden shyness that appears out of nowhere when she's looked at a certain way. A part of her – the selfish part – hopes he hasn't. She wants him to ache the way she did for him, before Julian swept her off her feet just as she was about to hit rock bottom. _

_Another part of her, that small part of her that will always be passionately in love with him, hopes that he has found someone. Because that part of her wants nothing but his happiness. _

_The vindictive and romantic parts of her soul will never reach an agreement on the topic of Lucas Scott. Sometimes she hates that, and at other times she thinks it's better that way. _

_She runs her finger softly over the words he wrote, words he wrote for her, as a tribute to their love. She lets the book fall closed and rests her palm against the cover. _

_Just like couples in those old movies told one another that they'd always have Paris, she and Lucas would always have __**Ravens**__. It is a permanent, printed part of their history. A memory from the time when her future suddenly lost its fuzziness and became painfully obvious. _

_When the spray of the shower ends, she tucks the book back in the drawer, kicks the sheet that covers her off, and smirks to herself. She's over the past. The present is more than enough for her._

_Julian emerges from the en suite bathroom, still dripping water, wearing nothing but a fluffy white towel around his waist. Peyton resists the urge to chuckle. He thinks he's won, and it's almost…cute._

_His casually cocky smile disappears instantly when he spots her, propped up against the pillows in nothing but his favourite sleep shirt, her best come-hither look lighting up her eyes lustfully. "Sup, babe?" she asked, blinking at him innocently. _

_"Oh…that is just cruel," he said, shaking his head. _

_She licks her lips and lifts one shoulder. "Sure it is…now what're you gonna do about it?"_

_He practically dives onto her, saying, "I like feisty Peyton."_

_She lets out a loud laugh, but places a hand firmly against his chest to keep him from fully resting his weight on her body. "Um, don't you have a meeting to get to?" she asks, scrunching up her nose. _

_Julian chuckles and presses his body firmly against hers. "You win," he whispers. "Of course you do."_

_She smiles sweetly back and gives in. The water from his body seeps through her shirt and finds her skin, but she doesn't object. She likes the feel of the transfer of the water droplets; it's a connection. _

_His hand sneaks up between them as he kisses her to cup her breast, feeling its weight in his palm, and she murmurs something unintelligible against his lips. That same hand moves up further until its finally cupping her cheek, and it is only then that he pulls away, resting most of his weight on his other arm so as not to crush her. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he says, and despite the fact that it's a little bit crude, there is a reverent note in his voice that makes her melt. _

_"But what about your meeting?" she asks, feigning concern. _

_Julian just laughs, his breaths hot and heavy against the skin of her neck. "I told you that my moving in with you was a bad idea."_

_She smiles back as his thumb gently brushes against her bottom lip. She hooks a leg around his, pressing him closer with her heel. "But you're going to stay right here with me, right?" she asks softly, and is surprised by the extent of the tenderness and vulnerability in her own voice. _

_It surprises her boyfriend as well, she can tell by the sudden change in his eyes and the way his hand moves to stroke her hair softly. "Yeah," he tells her, looking deep into her green orbs. "I am."_

_-x-_

_Julian misses his meeting, but she doesn't care. He spends the whole day buried in bed with her, ignoring phone calls and telling silly secrets, whispering into her ear and touching every bit of her skin with his lips. _

_"We gotta get out of bed," he groans as she peppers kisses over his chest. _

_"__**No**__," she scoffs, peeking up at him through her eyelashes. Her hair must be a mess, her lips are throbbing, and her eyes are hazy, but he's still looking at her the way he did when he saw her in that black dress on their first __**official **__date. _

_It's because he loves her. _

_"Come on," he coaxes gently, standing and quickly pulling on a pair of boxers. He reaches out both hands and smiles. "Let's make something to eat. I'm starving."_

_She arches her eyebrows teasingly and he rolls his eyes, correcting himself, "For __**food.**__"_

_She pulls the sheet up to her chest and extends her hand, giving one of his a squeeze. "Okay. Sounds good. Just let me grab something to wear."_

_He nods, and keeping his hand entwined with hers, leans down to kiss her forehead. It's protective and sweet; two characteristics of his that she knows are generally hidden from the rest of the world. _

_They are hers alone, and she treasures them. _

_She pulls on a pair of black shorts and a thin blue shirt. She wanders out into the kitchen, pausing to smile as she watches him pour oil into a frying pan. She's always loved that he does at least half, if not more of the cooking. He takes on responsibility, he takes care of her, and she does the same. It's give and take, and it's working so __**well**__._

_"Are you going to come over here and help me out, or are you just going to keep staring?" He turns and grins, calling her on her gawking, making her blush. _

_She walks over to him and he lifts his free arm so that she can step into a half-hug. "Sorry you missed your meeting," she murmurs, a bit abashedly, as she presses a kiss into the crook of his neck. _

_"Eh, it's alright," he shrugs, cracking an egg expertly with one hand. "A day in bed with the girl I love is always so much better."_

_She smiles softly. "I love you, too," she tells him with gentle certainty in his voice. She leans up for a kiss that is meant to be a short apology, but turns into something much more. _

_Julian warns, against her lips, "Mm, keep that up and we'll be back in the bedroom."_

_Peyton laughs mischievously, feeling whole and happy. "Who said anything about the __**bedroom**__?" she asks cheekily._

_All it takes a second, a flick of her wrist to turn the burner off, a slight hop to boost herself up onto the counter, and a tug on the waistband of his boxers to pull him to stand in between her legs as she kisses him hungrily, letting time fade away once again_

_It's at moments like these that she finds herself thinking that L.A. finally feels like it really could be home. Like maybe it already is. _

**A/N: **Thoughts?


	4. History

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. I just wrote a oneshot that I'm actually rather proud of (it's LP, and I'm going to suggest it just because it might make you happier than this chapter does…) and that used up all my inspiration and creativity for a while, I guess. But here it is: chapter four. Enjoy and please review.

**History.**

As she wakes up, she stretches a hand out, but instead of the warm torso of her fiancé, she encounters only the cool, wrinkly surface of the sheets. She sighs as she sits up and pushes her hair back, out of her face. Lucas might have gone on a run – a typical method of clearing his head.

She can't blame him for that.

Pulling on a sweater, she peers out of the window just in case he might be on his way home, running up the walkway. No such luck.

When she wanders out of their bedroom, she is pleasantly surprised to find Lucas slicing strawberries onto fresh waffles in the kitchen.

"Hey, baby," she greets him tenderly, walking over to him and running her hand gently down the length of his arm.

He gives her the sweetest boyish smile as he hands her a plate. "I made breakfast," he tells her needlessly.

"You're too good to me."

Lucas, ever the gentleman, pulls out her chair for her and says, "I was hoping we could talk."

She slips into her chair as she shoots him a thankful smile. She feels rested and prepared for this conversation. "Of course we can."

He nods as he sits down beside her. "So, um, listen…I kind of punched Julian yesterday."

Peyton resists the urge to roll her eyes. "I know."

He furrows his brow in confusion. "You do?"

"I didn't talk to him, Luke," she says with a frown. She knows that things are messy between them, but even now, she expects more trust from him. "Julian didn't tell me. When you said that you'd _talked_ to him it was obvious that you hadn't actually…_talked_ to him."

His smile is small and sheepish. "Oh."

"You know something?" she asks as she leans toward him conspiratorially. He leans in as well; their noses almost touch. "I'm glad you got jealous."

He grins bashfully. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She leans back, throwing him a wink. "It's kinda hot."

Lucas laughs lightly. "Tell me about him. Tell me about…" He makes a sour face and bites out, "You and him."

She abandons her breakfast and rests her hand over his as she speaks to remind him that she is now a part of _Lucas and Peyton_ and no other coupling. "The first time I met him was right after you proposed. I was crying in the mailroom and he walked in." She sees both remorse and suspicion in his eyes and rushes on, "We didn't see each other again for almost a year – the next time we met I literally ran into him outside of your…your book-signing. He called me the saddest girl in the world and I really did feel like I was. But then he made me smile and God, Luke, I _needed_ that. I saw you and Lindsey and my world crashed down…he made me feel like things could be okay again."

Lucas frowns and asks protectively, "Was he good to you?"

She smiles softly. "I know that he comes across as kind of a jackass…but he really is a good guy. We had fun. We were in love," she adds mutedly.

"So things were…serious?"

"We moved in together," she admits, and he gulps audibly. She gives him a pointed look, wordlessly reminding him that he said _I do_ to another woman.

He clears his throat. "Why'd you break up?"

"I read your book too often," she tells him. "He asked me if there'd ever be a day when he wasn't sharing me with you…and I couldn't tell him no."

Lucas can't hide a small smile. "Do you think Julian still has feelings for you?"

She is not entirely sure, but she shakes her head no anyway. "_He_ left me, Luke."

"That doesn't mean he did it willingly," Lucas counters. He scoots his chair closer to hers. "You're a hard girl to let go off, Peyton Sawyer."

She can't help but think of how easily he walked out of that hotel room, out of her life. But then she remembers the look in his eyes when he first saw her again on the river court; it matches the look in his eyes right now.

She leans in to press her lips to his gently, chastely, her hand lifting to rest against his cheek. As she pulls back, she whispers, "I'm sorry about the kiss."

"What? That was good," he teases.

"With _Julian_," she giggles.

Lucas nods. "I'm sorry, too…about everything." She smiles in acknowledgment and he continues, "Peyton, you have been…so good to me, and so strong for both of us when I have…"

"Strayed?" she provides delicately, trying not to make it sound like a dig.

"Strayed from us," he agrees. "So I…promise to _try_ to let your history with Julian go."

Peyton moves into his lap, wrapping both her arms and legs around him. "Thank you," she says earnestly as she runs her fingers through his hair, glad that it has grown back – it symbolizes the end of heartbreak.

He rests his hands on her hips and leans his forehead against hers. "I can't really blame a guy for having good enough taste to fall in love with you, can I?" he shrugs playfully.

"Luke…" she breaths, and kisses him passionately, ridding herself of all her bad memories and focusing on how sweet he is being to her right now.

He pulls back. "What about our waff –"

She presses her hips further into his and the protest dies on his lips, turning into a groan.

"You have me," she tells him coyly. "And I am much sexier than waffles."

"Mm," Lucas growls in appreciative agreement, one hand running up her thigh.

She loves him. She loves him so much and for a million reasons, including that he is willing to try and forget.

But she isn't having quite as much luck. Her own words haunt her and Lucas' hands drift under her shirt.

_But you'll have me, and I am way sexier than Sundance. _

-x-

When Brooke shows up, Lucas and Peyton are sitting together in the living room, their hair still dripping from their joint shower. Peyton's wearing one of Lucas' old basketball jerseys over tiny blue shorts, her legs stretched out over her fiancé's.

"What are you thinking?" she asks quietly as he flips through the screenplay that he spent so much time on.

"I don't want to do it."

"Oh, honey…I think you should."

He runs a weary hand over his eyes. "I don't _trust_ him, Peyt. The guy's a jerk."

"Okay, Luke, but…you signed over the rights to your book. It's your story. And if you don't trust him…that's all the more reason for you to be on board, for you to have your say."

He looks so broken that it tears at her heart. This is her fault.

"Just think about it," she encourages, making sure not to put any pressure on him.

Lucas' smile is all love. "Thank you for being here for me."

She smiles fondly in return. "I'll always be here for you."

That's when Brooke interrupts, announcing her presence with, "Aw. If my teenaged foster child were here, she would gag." She pauses and shrugs. "Or make some kind of sexual joke." She paces over to them and plants a hand on her hip. "C'mon, P. Sawyer-soon-to-be-Scott. We're going to lunch."

Her eyebrows fly up. "We are?"

"Yep. I need girl time with my bestest friend, and Luke looks like he could use some lonely-broody time to himself."

"Thanks, Brooke," he smirks.

"Just looking out for ya," she chirps back, feigning a modest shrug. "Come on, Peyton, move your ass – get dressed. Or, I guess you could go like that…" she muses with a twinkle in her eye.

"Get dressed," Lucas says immediately, and both girls smile.

"So protective," Brooke sighs.

Peyton cups Lucas' chin in her hand as she stands. "And I love you that way," she tells him.

-x-

"So how's it going, P.?" Brooke asks as they settle into her car. "Looks like you and Luke had some good make-up sex."

Peyton rolls her eyes but she can't remain aloof, she ends up confessing, "Yeah…we did."

"You still feeling a little conflicted?" Brooke inquires.

She shakes her head. "Lucas is…_my guy_, Brooke. A lot of the time I think that he always has been. You know that," she adds, casting a fleetingly guilty look at her best friend.

Brooke smirks. "Yeah, I do." She swerves onto a street, the squeal of her tires piercing the peace of the quiet neighbourhood.

"Jeez," Peyton gasps, gulping down the bile that rose to her throat at the harsh momentum. She places a hand on the dashboard to steady herself and teases, "I know you're still bitter, but do you have to try to kill me?"

"Ha," Brooke says dryly. She glances over at Peyton, suddenly concerned. "It wasn't that bad, P. Sawyer. Your driving used to be worse."

She smiles softly. "Yeah, I know."

"You look shaken," Brooke points out, unrelenting.

"I'm fine," Peyton assures her patiently.

"You know, stress is a contributing factor in ninety-nine percent of all cases of illness."

"Oh, Brooke…_tell_ me you didn't just quote your yoga instructor."

Brooke keeps her gaze focused on the road, but Peyton sees the beginning of a blush in the apples of her cheeks. "Peyton, yoga is a wonderful method of both exercise and relaxation."

"I _agree_. But not when you only joined because you thought the instructor was 'the hottest thing on two feet'."

Brooke pouts as she pulls up in front of the Scott home. Haley walks out of the front door, a jacket thrown over her arm.

"Haley's coming?"

The brunette perks up, pleased with the change of subject. "Yeah, I need some company over the age of eighteen."

Peyton gives Brooke a knowing smile. "You love her," she says, referring to Brooke's foster child.

She nods, glancing down, her smile gentle and genuine. "Yeah. I do."

Haley pulls the back door open and slides in, greeting them, "Hey, girlies."

"Teacher mom, thank God," Brooke says, instantly brightening again and she pulls a u-turn. "Tell Peyton that stress is a contributing factor in ninety-nine percent of all cases of illness," she says, verbatim once again.

"It's true," Haley agrees. "Are you not feeling well, Peyton?"

"I'm fine," she insists, and she really does feel okay. "I think it's time for a new topic."

Haley leans forward between the two front seats. "I _agree_," she says wholeheartedly, and both she and Peyton give Brooke knowing looks.

The brunette feigns ignorance. "I don't know _what_ you are talking about."

"You're a designer, honey, not an actor," Haley tells her dryly.

"What restaurant do you want to go to?"

"Your pick, B. Davis," Peyton says patiently. "Now, tell us what's up."

"The sky," Brooke deadpans.

"Brooke!" her friends cry in unison.

"Okay, okay…Owen and I…are very good," she says firmly.

"That's so great," Peyton says earnestly. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks," Brooke smiles as she parks effortlessly.

Haley nods. "And what about his fear of kids and commitment?"

Brooke shrugs, grabbing her purse as they all get out of the car. "We're working on it," she says like he's recovering from an addiction. "He and Sam actually get along pretty well, and you know that he's good with Jamie."

There's a break in the conversation as they step into the restaurant and a waitress seats them, hands them menus, and writes down Brooke's wine selection. The moment she leaves the air feels empty, like there is something more to be said.

"What is it, Brooke?" Peyton asks her gently.

Brooke is uncharacteristically shy and nervous as she toys with the buckle on her purse. After a long moment, she says, "I think he might be the one." Following her confession, she rushes out with, "Is that _crazy_? Is it too _soon_?"

"It's not crazy," Peyton says instantly, just as Haley says, "It's not too soon."

"Brooke," Haley continues, "it's not either of those things. Nathan and I met and got married in the space of less than a year, and we were _sixteen_. And yeah, we've come close to falling apart a few times and it's been really hard, but there was never a moment when I questioned if he was the right guy or not. He is. When you know, you know. Right, Peyton?" she asks, wanting back up. Brooke still looks dubious.

Her smile is half-hearted and bittersweet. "Yeah," she whispers.

The day she almost ran Lucas over, the moment his eyes met hers and a crackle of sizzling electricity flew down her spine, had she _really_ known? Haley and Nathan have had their ups and downs, just as she has with Lucas, but Haley and Nathan never loved other people.

That doesn't sting her, because she cared deeply for Nathan, but she knows the difference between infatuation and real love. What does sting her is that she and Lucas are different. There was a time when she was madly in love with Jake Jagielski, a time when she assumed that she would eventually marry Julian Baker. Lucas was in love with Brooke, and he went through a hell of a lot to prove it. He proposed and stood at the altar with Lindsey. They have known love that is not with each other.

And yet, he was always there. Whether it was a hug in the hallway or the words in his book, he was there, constantly lingering in the deepest recesses of her mind. That's what makes this real, that's what makes this forever, she figures. When she's with Lucas she thinks of nothing but him; her thoughts never drift to…

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," she breaths.

"What is it?" Haley asks.

Brooke follows Peyton's gaze. "Oh," she says, her lips forming the shape of the vowel she's just spoken. "Look who it is."

"That's…Julian?" Haley asks, her eyebrows flying upward. "Wow."

"I know," Brooke agrees, giving her a knowing nod. "He's definitely charming, definitely hot."

Peyton ignores them, focusing on the woman sitting across from him, sipping her drink and fluttering her eyelashes. "Of _course_ he has a date already," she mutters.

Her friends' eyes fly to her.

"You sound a little jealous there, P. Sawyer," Brooke comments.

Peyton turns to look at her and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. "Oh my God. Brooke, you _knew?_"

Brooke winces as Haley shoots her a disbelieving look as well. "Maybe?"

"How?" Haley demands incredulously. "How could you have possibly known that he'd be here with a date right now?"

The brunette just shrugs mysteriously. "I think the real question here is how Peyton feels."

"Is this a _test_?" Peyton gasps. "If you're keeping score, how about I remind you of the months I spent crying on your shoulder over _Lucas_ last year. That might even things out a bit," she bites out sarcastically.

"Honey…no," Brooke protests, as soothingly as she can. "There's no scorecard. I'm just concerned about you."

"Brooke, I am engaged, and I'm in love with my fiancé."

"So what're you doing kissing Julian?" Haley's eyes are gentle, softening the accusation in her words.

Peyton glares at her. "I'm sorry, who was it that kissed Chris Keller?"

Haley presses her lips together. She can't say much of anything to that.

"Peyton…" Brooke calls her attention again. "I'm not trying to imply anything, you just seem so…flighty lately. One minute you and Luke are fine, the next you're kissing your ex. Then you're fine again, and now you're all worked up."

"Because you _set_ me _up_."

Brooke gives up on trying to comfort her and lays out her thoughts. "I think you're scared," she says flatly. "And I get, Peyton, I do. I've _been_ there. Lucas hurt you and you are _terrified_ that it's going to happen again. So…maybe you're looking for backup. Or maybe you're trying to remind yourself that Luke is really the one by checking out your other possibilities. God knows I've done both."

"Lucas is insanely in love with you," Haley interjects softly. "I know he loved Lindsey, but never like he does you. When you came back from Vegas and told me that you two were engaged, you should have seen the look on his face. He said that you're both happier than you've been in a long time, and he is, he really is."

"You're Lucas and Peyton. You're _meant to be_," Brooke insists. "So you need to focus on your future with the love of your life and let that…" she tilts her head toward Julian's table, "go."

Peyton glances back toward Julian. His date has disappeared and he's drinking coffee on his own. "I need to talk to him."

"Peyton –" Haley protests.

"It's fine," she says firmly. She stands and walks toward his table, pausing to stop a waiter and ask for extra mushrooms in the salad Brooke will undoubtedly order. She appreciates her best friend's concern, but she can't resist getting a little revenge.

She stalks over to Julian with her head up. "This seat taken?" she asks, arching an eyebrow.

He shakes his head, his eyes searching her face for a sign of what she's thinking. "All yours."

She sits down across from him and sighs. "Listen…I need you to work _with_ Lucas on this, okay? It's important to him, and some parts of the story are hard for him to revisit. I need you to cut him some slack and listen a bit. Okay? Please?"

Julian nods. "Alright. I will."

"Thank you," she says earnestly. "Listen, Julian…I'm sorry that this is messy, and I'm sorry that things ended between us – sorry that you didn't think I really loved you, because I did. And I'm sorry –"

"Are you happy with him, Peyton?" he cuts her off.

She inhales sharply. "I am," she whispers.

"Well. Then. That's all the matters, isn't it?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows.

"Julian…" she sighs, and realizes she still says his name in that gentle, adoring way. She looks at him sadly and sees sadness staring right back at her, buried beneath the sarcasm and defensive confidence he's put up as a wall. They are so alike sometimes that it breaks her heart.

"I read the new book," he says idly, maybe pointlessly. "_The boy saw the comet and suddenly his life had meaning_. That's a serious compliment, right there. Though, I've got to say, I would've given you a nicer celestial object to be compared to. A star or something."

She wants to comfort him, and she searches her mind for the words. She settles on: "You'll find your comet someday."

She needs to stand up and walk away, because his eyes are boring into hers and it's just too much and her friends are undoubtedly staring. She pushes her chair back and turns away; he waits until that moment to softly utter, "I kind of thought it was you."

There is no way that she can't turn back, so she does. She walks over until she is standing right next to him and leans down toward him. Her hand drifts up to lie gently on his cheek, covering the bruise left there by her fiancé's fist. She leans in and lifts her hand, pressing her lips to that same spot. When she pulls back her lips brush his ear and she whispers, "I'm sorry."

And she's not talking about the punch.

-x-

When she arrives home she's inexplicably fighting the urge to cry. Maybe Brooke's right, maybe she is flighty – maybe she doesn't know who she loves, or maybe she's too afraid to admit it.

But she _does_ know, and she realizes it when she walks into the living room to see that Lucas has framed another picture of the two of them, definitely taken by Haley. The two of them are standing on opposite sides of a room exchanging flirtatious smiles. Eye sex, that would be Brooke's assessment.

So maybe she is flighty, but there is some knowledge that she's absolutely grounded in, and she realizes this as she curls her body into Lucas'. He's asleep on the couch, a book in his hands, and she gets as close to him as possible, breathing lightly, trying not to wake him. When he does open his eyes, it's because she's covered his mouth with hers.

"Do you know…" she whispers, blinking quickly, "why I fell in love with Julian?" She doesn't wait for a reply, because there isn't one. "It was for a lot of reasons, but also because he was like a connection to you. Our first two meetings, I was crying over you, and it was like he rejuvenated me. He took all my hurt over you and showed me that it was possible to turn it into something good, to fall in love again. But it would be a lie, for me to tell you that there was ever a day when I stopped thinking about you, when I was with Julian. Because there wasn't."

A tear escapes her eye, sliding gracefully down her cheek, and Lucas kisses it away. "God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing over her cheeks in a pattern that's like secret code. "Thank you," he adds meaningfully, pulling her closer. His smile is drowsy but honest. "I love you so much."

His words go straight to her heart, filling her up with the warmth of love, but there's the smallest part that still feels empty.

She wants him to say, _There wasn't a day with Lindsey, with Brooke, that I stopped thinking about you_. She wants to know that the intensity of her love is reciprocated. She wants to know that it's for real. She wants to know that their history really doesn't mean anything…not that they just say so to comfort themselves so that they can believe in an ideal that doesn't exist.

That day in her car, when their eyes met and her heart stopped and they were encompassed by something bigger than them both, she believed in true love, always. Now she's not so sure.

And Brooke is right. It scares her. She thought Vegas and proposals and moving in together and _I love you_'s and sex everything in between would renew her belief, but those things haven't.

Her confidence is gone and she doesn't know why, but she hopes her wedding dress isn't ready just yet.


End file.
